


I don't wanna look at anything else (now that I saw you)

by asongofsnow



Series: royals [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cheesy, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jon and Sansa are Cousins, Kinda, Modern Royalty, Modern Westeros, Really Awkward Since I Can't Flirt, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sansa-centric, Some angst, Teen Romance, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 12:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20778356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongofsnow/pseuds/asongofsnow
Summary: "It's quite alright, Your Grace. I'm sure it was delicious."And he said it with such sincerity that Sansa's next words were completely unplanned, something she hardly ever did."We could share it."In which Jon and Sansa share a moment. Set before the events ofhome is where the heart is





	I don't wanna look at anything else (now that I saw you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willowycreature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowycreature/gifts).

> For Mani, who I love so much.
> 
> This is another one of those things I wrote and had to post before bed so I deeply apologize for any mistakes and I will fix them tomorrow.
> 
> Also it might be best if you read the first part of this series first to get some context but I'm not sure. Do what your heart tells you to 💕
> 
> Title of this fic is from daylight by Taylor Swift.

"There's no more left."

The words were muffled. Arya was standing in the kitchen, plate in hand, shoving bite after bite of the delicious strawberry cheesecake Sansa had baked for them the other night. The tray where the dessert once stood was now empty, just a few crumbs and some strawberry slices in it, looking rather sad at the kitchen counter. Sansa stared at her sister with a frown, wondering how that was possible.

"I was on the phone for less than ten minutes."

Arya's tried to give her an apologetic look, but Sansa could easily tell the regret was little to none. All her siblings loved her desserts, especially her cheesecakes, which she rarely made, since it was Father's favorite and she didn't like thinking about him. But that was a special occasion and that called for a special dessert. And now it was all gone.

She had stayed up late making sure the cheesecake would be perfect. Not too sweet, not too cheesy. The slices of strawberry had to be perfectly cut and the jam rich enough to actually taste like the fruit. It was already past one am when she went to bed, exhausted not from all the baking but from all the memories. She had thought of Father during every minute of it.

"How many pieces did you have?"

Arya was quick to answer. "Only one."

Sansa eyed her sister skeptically, seeming much like Mother when they were young kids. She had seen Catelyn give that look to Arya and the boys many times, but she had never received one herself. Now she couldn't.

"Okay, fine, this is my second one, but Bran and Rickon both had three!"

"Arya!"

"I'm sorry, you were taking forever and we were hungry!"

"The three of you just had a two course meal!"

"Well you know there's always room for dessert!"

"What's all this shouting about?"

Both girls turned to see Jon standing at the door, a serious expression on his face. Sansa had hoped she wasn't being so loud, it was always too easy to lose her temper when arguing with Arya, but she wasn't supposed to act in such manners anymore. It was easy to forget herself while standing in the kitchen though, especially surrounded by her siblings and getting annoyed with their selfishness towards food.

"The boys ate all the cheesecake and now there's nothing left for Sansa."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at Arya's childish tone. Her sister had taken a liking to Jon the minute he'd gotten there, even if he was the one who brought back the corpse of their uncle with him. She knew how much her sister missed having an older brother, a person who could actually look out for her while still being silly, so different than the type of sibling Sansa had been. She knew Arya was desperately trying to find the same connection in Jon, and she knew he would indulge her however much she wanted. They had been close as children, and even if they hadn't seen each other in years, it was easy for the two of them to find a connection again. She would never say it, but she had been a little jealous of their closeness in the beginning, especially because it had only meant she was now more alone than ever. No Mother and Father, no Robb, no Uncle Benjen to give her guidance, and now Arya too was being taken away, although in a different manner, but still. She could feel her sister bonding with Jon more and more each day that passed, and the boys were already so fond of him. She feared in the end she might be all alone.

"It seems that you've eaten quite a bit as well."

Arya had the decency to look embarrassed, lowering her eyes while mouthing a silent apology to Sansa. It was alright, really, she was just disappointed that she hadn't been able to taste it. She preferred lemon cakes anyway, but the cheesecake was Father's favorite and she had wanted to know if she had gotten the recipe right.

"You can have my piece if you want, Your Grace."

She looked at him, surprised, and her blue eyes met his grey stare. She was sure she was blushing a little, and that made her embarrassed but she couldn't quite control it. Jon was a handsome boy. Better, he was a handsome man, even only being three years older than her, and she always felt a little flustered during the rare occasions that he you actually address her directly. His expression suggested that he was waiting for an answer, and she tried to be quick with her words.

"Haven't you eaten it yet, cousin?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Grace. I was giving Ghost some leftover meat from lunch. My slice is sitting untouched at the outside table, and it's yours if you wish it."

"But it's been so long since you had any."

It was true. The last time Jon had tasted the famous strawberry cheesecake recipe was probably a few months before he had left Winterfell to attend his royal duties north of the Wall. He'd been fourteen, and now, almost a decade later, Sansa had secretly made the dessert for him, as an attempt to create a bond they didn't really have. In the almost two months since he'd arrived at the castle to bury uncle Benjen, they'd hardly ever eaten meals together. Sansa was always busy with matters of the crown, and Jon seemed determined to spend every minute he had free of his duties with his cousins, trying to recreate the closeness they'd lost when he had left. It was strange to her, that a King could spend so much time away from his home, but according to her advisors, the lands beyond the Wall were a much different kingdom, and Jon's obligations as King hardly demanded as much of him as hers did as Queen in the North.

"It's quite alright, Your Grace. I'm sure it was delicious."

And he said it with such sincerity that Sansa's next words were completely unplanned, something she hardly ever do.

"We could share it."

He was surprised at that, she could tell. She wasn't sure if it was a good kind of surprise or a bad one, and she soon started to get nervous at his silence. Had she been improper with that suggestion? He was a King after all. She'd still call him so if he hadn't insisted that it wasn't necessary. _ You can call me whatever you want, Your Grace. We're family, there's no need for titles. _Maybe he didn't feel comfortable sharing a piece of dessert, at least not with her anyways. He'd probably prefer Arya's company, or one of the boys, at that made her sadder than finding out about the finished cheesecake.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-"

"I'd love to."

His voice was a bit lower than before but he sounded sincere. Sansa also noticed a faint redness around his cheeks, and that made her heart flutter. She must be imagining things, must be getting lost in silly childish dreams again. She tried to clear her mind, giving Jon a small smile as she turned around to ask Arya to deposit the dishes in the sink but her sister was gone. There were dirty plates everywhere and Sansa had given the servants the day off, wanting to have a more intimate family meal. Now it seemed like a mistake.

"She sneaked out while we we're talking. I'll help you with the dishes later, Your Grace. Shall we go outside?"

Jon's voice was back to it's normal tone now, and he wore a serious expression, his grey eyes still locked on her. She nodded affirmatively with her head, passing through him at the doorway and heading through the corridor outside, with Jon following close behind. She tried not to think about the fact that he had so courteously waited for her to go in front of him, but to know he was mindful of the northern customs made her heart beat even more unevenly than before.

* * *

It was a lovely day outside, a spring breeze making her long hair sway a bit. Something had told her to wear it down that morning, even if she usually put it in a braid, and the way Jon kept giving her side glances was enough to let her know she had made the right decision. They were sitting at the garden's chairs side by side, the half finished slice of cheesecake in front of them, and so far they had stayed in silence. Rickon was playing with the dogs not too far from them, Bran was probably inside reading somewhere and Arya had disappeared after their argument in the kitchen but Sansa wasn’t really thinking about any of that. She was thinking about Jon, sitting next to her, quiet, and about how he hadn’t minded that they would have to share a spoon once they got outside and realized no one had remembered to bring another. She had offered to go get one but he had said it wasn't necessary, at least not for him, and she had sat at the iron chair near the little table where the cheesecake was placed. Next to it was a small notebook, in which Jon now silently wrote on, while occasionally looking at her. She knew he thought she hadn’t noticed, but that was something Uncle Benjen had taught her from a very young age, long before Mother and Robb’s accident. One must always be aware of their surroundings, especially if they find themselves to be a person of interest to someone. So yes, she could tell Jon was looking, but she would pretend for a little longer that she couldn’t.

She had insisted that he would take the first bite, determined to see a look of approval on his face, and once it was her turn to eat he had simply fed her the small piece, making her blush all over. She closed her eyes, half savouring the taste of the cheesecake - after all, it was delicious, just as she remembered it being - half trying to hide the way her eyes had widened with his gesture. After that they’d taken turns sharing the spoon, and Sansa hadn’t dared to look Jon in the eye while doing so, focusing on Rickon and the dogs and the way the cheesecake would melt perfectly in her mouth.

They hadn’t said a word to each other and she was growing impatient. She had been known for always knowing what to say and when to say it and especially how to say it, but with Jon it was different. Sansa felt like her training in court would hardly give her any help in this department. The truth was she had no clue how to get close to someone. Four of the small circle of people she loved were dead, and the other three had been in her life forever. She had no friends, not really, and she hardly knew any people her age. It was rather lonely, being an heir, and much lonelier now after her coronation, and Sansa had tried her hardest to understand the man sitting next to her but she felt that there was so much she didn’t know. He was always so quiet around her, always seeming to brood, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Arya had assured her multiple times that he was only shy, she would think he hated her. Now, after accepting her offer to share a strawberry cheesecake, Sansa had hoped he would start to open up, but he remained silent, only writing, and stealing quick glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Uncle Benjen never told her much about Jon, but he did tell her that sometimes a more direct approach would work better than the sutil ways they taught in monarchy. She missed her uncle, desperately, and she wished he was there to help her through it. Taking his advice seemed like the next best thing.

“Why do you still use my title?”

Jon looked up from his notebook, a bit startled by her the sound of her voice. “What?”

“Your Grace. Why do you still use it, even though you insisted we shouldn’t use yours?”

“I didn’t want to be disrespectful, that’s all.”

He was fully looking at her now, and Sansa held his stare, studying his face. She had never been this close to him for this long, and she could now see he had a faint scar on his left side, right over the eye. She could also tell how much his eyes looked like her father’s, like Arya’s and certainly like his mother’s, an aunt she had never met but had heard so much about. She also noticed his lips, how plump they looked after tasting the strawberry jam, and her mind betrayed her, imagining how it would feel to have his lips on hers. She had only been kissed once, by a son of a Lord a few years ago, and although it had been quite pleasant she imagined that Jon’s lips would make her feel much better than Harry’s had done. She could feel her face burning, and she knew she must be looking obviously flushed the minute she saw his lips twitch in a small smile. She stared at his eyes again, and she couldn’t quite comprehend the expression in them before he spoke.

“What do you wish me to call you then, if not “Your Grace”? Mayhaps My Lady? Or My Queen?”

“Just call me Sansa.”

“Aye, if you’ll call me Jon.”

She smiled, and he smiled back. Before she could turn her gaze away, he grabbed the spoon again, bringing a piece of the sweet to his mouth and eating it, never really taking his eyes from her. He was being cheeky now, and that pleased her. She could be cheeky too, when needed.

“Alright, Jon. What are you writing in that notebook?”

“That’s private, _ Your Grace. _”

His mocking tone made her roll her eyes and he looked very amused. “I thought Queens weren’t supposed to roll their eyes like that, especially at their guests.”

“I really doubt you’ve met a Queen like me.”

He became very serious before speaking. “No, I really haven't, Sansa.”

She bit her lower lip to keep herself from smiling too much and embraced the butterflies in her stomach. Turning her head towards Rickon and the dogs again, she wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t hear the sound of pen against paper anymore, which must meant Jon was still looking at her but he also kept quiet. She decided to take another bite of cheesecake, a bigger one this time, focusing on the sweetness of the strawberry and wondering if Jon’s lips would taste as sweet. She couldn’t help herself from thinking about him like that, even if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to. Jon had just turned twenty one, and she had no idea how his life was beyond the wall, but as a King there were certain expectations he would one day have to meet in regards of marriage. Surely, now, he would be wanting to enjoy his youth while he still could, and exchanging looks with his cousin hardly qualified as enjoyment, at least she didn’t think he would see it like that. And yet, he had blushed, he had teased her, he had stared at her multiple times. She knew she was young and extremely inexperienced when it came to matters of the heart, but she was also a girl recently turned eighteen, already ruler of a nation, in charge of tens of thousands of lives, and sooner than later the marriage proposals would start coming. She had the right to have a little fun before being bound to duty.

“So how did you know?”

His voice brought her back to her senses. She turned her face to him again, but he wasn’t looking back at her, but to the notebook at his lap.

“Know what?”

“That the strawberry cheesecake was my favorite.”

She felt herself smile, utterly pleased. He had liked it, then, just as she hoped. “I didn’t. It was father’s favorite.”

He gave her a sad smile, and somehow that made her next question come out naturally.

“Do you miss him?”

“Terribly. Even if I have trouble remembering him sometimes.”

She could feel in her heart that he was being completely honest, and it was maybe because she felt exactly the same about Father, or maybe because she was just so grateful that he had shared something truthful with her that she decided her next move on a whim, hardly thinking about the consequences of her actions. She came forward in her chair, leaning towards him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, almost touching the corner of his lips. She leaned back, looking at him, and this time it was impossible to miss how flustered he had become. Sansa gave him a cheeky smile.

“What was that for?”

“For coming home.”

He shyly smiled back at her, and she turned her face away, moving her hair across her shoulder. She started braiding it loosely before speaking.

“You should have the last piece.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so, Jon.”

“Only if you feed it to me.”

Her eyes quickly found his and his wicked expression only made her feel more flustered than before. He was smirking at her, too, and it made him look devilish handsome, only making clearer how absolutely doomed she was.

“That is no way to speak to your Queen.”

“It is if she likes it.”

Sansa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was positive her entire body must be red, and Jon should be very much aware of the same fact. She wasn’t sure what was this, the game they had started playing. She only knew she had felt more alive in the past hour than she did during the two months since uncle Benjen had died, and she wasn’t about to let that feeling go away. However, she was still a Queen, and even young and flirtatious Queens must know when to stand their ground.

“Well, I must certainly will not feed it to you. I said you could have the last bite, and you can, but if you don’t want it I’ll be more than happy to give it to the dogs.”

He rolled his eyes at her but didn’t hesitate to finish off the cheesecake. Sansa watched him savour it, quietly, his eyes closed as if he could taste the sweet better that way. She knew she'd bake him a hundred more cheesecakes if he asked her, and she hoped he would.

Opening his eyes to look at her, he smiled. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hoped he would ask her many things.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wrote the first part of this series on Monday and I just kept thinking about it and then this happened. I hope you enjoyed it.  
English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes I made. I'll try to correct them as soon as I can.  
I'm @sansaravenclaw on twitter and tumblr if you wanna chat!  
Thank you so much for reading!  
Xxxxxx


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